


Irreplaceable You

by itsreallylaterightnow



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Cancer, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Irreplaceable You AU, Love, Lovers to lovers to lovers, Peter and Michelle love each other, Protective Peter Parker, Romance, Sad AU, Sad Michelle Jones, Sad Peter Parker, Sick Michelle Jones, Spideychelle, They got us in the first half, This one has a sad ending boys, Worried Michelle Jones, Worried Peter Parker, Worried Tony Stark, chemo - Freeform, lots of comfort, lots of love, miss-matched socks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23802073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow/pseuds/itsreallylaterightnow
Summary: Then she learned that she didn’t have to worry about that anymore. Because her story was going to end. She didn’t need to worry about what she was going to wear next, or her payments, or her assignments. It didn’t matter anymore because she was going to die. And she never knew that she was living her life for the next moment until she realized that the only moment, she was waiting for was her death.But the one thing that she would always worry about, was Peter Parker.orThe Irreplaceable You AU that took over my life and is going to make me cry a whole lot
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter parker & Ned Leeds & Michelle Jones, Tony Stark & Peter Parker, spideychelle - Relationship
Comments: 28
Kudos: 49





	1. Tangerine

**Author's Note:**

> Hellloooo lovelies! I hope you all are well! I am so excited for this fic! Someone PLEASE stop me from starting all these new works! Then again, school is almost over for me, so I guess it doesn't matter because I'll have SO much free time! 
> 
> I just watched the movie Irreplaceable You and it broke me - so naturally Imma break myself even more by making it about Peter and Michelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: If you've already read this chapter, the character Mary has been replaced with Gwen :) Sorry for the confusion

She always used to worry about things. Her life tended to revolve on how type A she was. Everything in her world was leading to the next moment. She was a planner, setting out her clothes every night, making her payments at least seven days before they due, and turning in assignments within the first two days of being given them. Her whole life revolved on what she was doing next.

Then she learned that she didn’t have to worry about that anymore. Because her story was going to end. She didn’t need to worry about what she was going to wear next, or her payments, or her assignments. It didn’t matter anymore because she was going to die. And she never knew that she was living her life for the next moment until she realized that the only moment, she was waiting for was her death.

But the one thing that would always matter, was Peter.

* * *

Michelle smiled as she slid into the party floor, finding Peter laughing at something Tony had said. She slid in beside him and linked har arm with his, taking a sip of the drink in her hand. Pepper, looking as put together and perfect as ever held out her hand to Michelle.

“Well, let me see it!” She exclaimed, and Michelle just smiled before holding out her hand. The ring was beautiful, a black diamond set into an intricately built gold band.

“Michelle, this is beautiful! Good job, Peter.” Pepper said with a flashy smile.

“Hey! Guys, hey! Let’s make a toast!” Ned was standing with May over by the bar as he held up his glass of champagne.

“Oh that’s a bad idea.” Michelle said with a smile.

“Well, he’s already started it. So, it’ll be hard to actually get him away from it.” Peter whispered.

“Happy engagement!” Everyone cheered and took a sip of their drink. But Ned continued speaking. “Yeah! To the [bride](https://www.definitions.net/definition/bride) and groom! I mean, they don't make any sense on paper, right? I mean, [Abbie](https://www.definitions.net/definition/Abbie) is type A and Peter is type Z.” Ned said as Michelle just tilted her head in confusion.

“Come on, I am not a type A.” Michelle said with a huff.

“What is a Z?” Peter asked in confusion, but Ned just kept moving along with his speech.

“I mean, how did an amazing woman like MJ, end up with the most clueless white dude in the city? I mean like…” Ned, too drunk to know what he was saying, just began to sip on his champagne again. Michelle let out a throaty laugh.

“Ned, dude – what are you saying?”

“I just generally disapprove of people who are as disgustingly happy as you guys are.” Ned said with a smirk, his glass finding his lips once more. “But, um, I’m really glad that you proposed to this guy!” Ned finished his toast with a clank of his glass to Peter’s.

“Oh! You proposed?” Pepper asked.

“You know, she just beat me to it. Always so competitive.” Peter jabbed, Michelle pinched her fingers into his side and leaned her head against his shoulder as he squirmed to get away from her tickling fingers.

“That’s great.” Tony said with a soft smile.

“I mean, I was trying to figure out the best moment, you know?”

“You were taking too long!” Michelle cut in, and Peter let his head fall back in a laugh. She felt so light, everything in the room was exactly how it should be. Their close friends and family, enjoying a night all together. She figured it was the perfect time. “So, I stuck a rubber band on my finger in the middle of dinner – and that was it!”

“That’s so cute.” Pepper said. Michelle and Peter shared a look, and he gave a slight nod before swallowing nervously. It was quiet in the room, everyone staring at the two of them.

“The truth is… there may be a little incentive to make it all official.” Everyone was staring at them in confusion. “We’re not telling people yet, but I guess everyone knows now, so…”

The rest of the night was spent with a chorus of “congratulations” and “I knew its”. And Michelle loved every moment of it.

In the fleeting moments she would look at Peter through the lights of the party, seeing his smile, his kindness, she would rest her hand on her stomach, feeling the small baby that was in there, and she would just think that this was exactly what she had always dreamed of. Someone so kind, so loving, so innately _good._ He would be the best father. Peter had graduated from MIT and moved back into the city. He and Michelle had done long distance throughout college, and they had known that as soon as he moved back into the city, that they wanted to move in together. Michelle had finished her art degree and had started selling art out of several local art shops. Peter had, of course, started working at Stark Industries immediately. May and Happy were happily married, continuing their work through May’s charity. Ned had gotten hired as a tech manager at Stark Industries, and Peter still did his web-slinging whenever he could. Through the generous budget Tony had given Peter, Michelle could afford her own little art studio overlooking Manhattan. Her life was going just the way she had planned it.

Even the pregnancy, while unexpected, was something she had welcomed. Sure, she had always figured she would be older, but her life was stable. Neither her nor Peter had financial worries. She was content, and ready. She was excited.

Staring at Peter that night, she was certain that her life was perfect.

* * *

She blinked her eyes open, sunlight shining lazily through the window of their apartment. Peter was tip-toeing into their room with her cup of coffee, wearing only his pajama pants and bed head. She constantly thanked the spider that bit him for the way he looked. Peter had grown in college, now he towered over her by a couple of inches and he was no longer the nerdy boy that she had met in ninth grade.

She took the coffee, leaning against the headboard and he crawled in beside her with his juice.

“Are you ever going to drink coffee, like a normal twenty-four-year-old?” Peter just rolled his eyes, leaning down to lay his head on her stomach, looking through her arms to her eyes.

“You know it … disagrees with me. Caffeine makes me dangerous.” She chuckled and took a sip of the drink. She smirked and did what she always did when there was a lull in conversation. With a very serious look on her face, after setting her cup on her bedside table, Michelle grabbed Peter’s face where it rested on her stomach and stared at him intently.

“What if it hadn’t worked out between us?” She asked, keeping her face still.

“Impossible.” He said with a firm shake of his head.

“What if… I, like, had been hit by a bus? Or run off with gypsies? Or became a man?” She asked, waiting for the same response he always gave her. Their long, strange routine way to say, ‘I love you’.

“Well, I would have stopped the bus – with my bare hands, because I’m Spider-Man – joined the gypsies or become gay.” He said with finality. She feigned a gasp and grabbed her chest.

“You would be gay if I were a man?” She asked.

“Well, you don’t need to do that.” He said with a grin, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Become a man?” She asked in confusion.

“Test it.” Michelle laughed and leaned forward, giving him a sloppy kiss.

Michelle loved Sundays. Peter was off work and agreed not to go patrolling. They would wake up lazily, cook breakfast together – which somehow always ended up being banana pancakes – then they would do the house chores for about an hour. Then, the rest of the day was lazy. Movies, cuddling, drawing, talking… not talking. They were her favorite days. Peter was eating his second helping of pancakes as Michelle pulled out her planner.

“Okay, so are you good if we confirm the venue today?” Peter was looking down at the newspaper as he hummed his agreement. She ticked off her checklist.

“Oh, and the caterer wants to know; chocolate, hazelnut, or raspberry?” She paused, looking to where Peter was focused on the paper.

“Mm-hmm.” He muttered again as Michelle sighed.

“Peter?” He looked up, confusion riddled on his face, as though he hadn’t heard a word she was saying.

“What? For what?” She let her head fall back with a grunt.

“For the cake. Our wedding cake.” He nodded, deep in thought.

“Well, not hazelnut. Nobody’s ever like, ‘Yum! That cake is hazelnut!’” Peter said. Michelle stepped to the fridge and grabbed a pressed juice.

“Okay, wise guy. Raspberry or chocolate?”

“Please not raspberry, the seeds get stuck in your teeth and then you realize later that nobody told you and it’s like, “Are these people even my friends?” She shook her head at him with a laugh.

“So chocolate?” She asked, leaning against his side. Peter wrapped his arm around her side.

“I mean, I do love chocolate.” He said with a point. Michelle rolled her eyes as she kissed him. Her eyes caught his feet and she let out a sigh of defeat.

“That’s one green and one red, Peter.” He nodded, wiggling his toes.

“Well, they feel the same.”

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

* * *

Michelle looked at Gwen with a squint as she ranted on about her latest Tinder disaster. Gwen worked at the coffee shop below Michelle’s art studio, and they had quickly become friends.

“You’re so lucky you have Peter. The dating game right now, sucks big time.” Gwen said as she looked over Michelle’s shoulder at the painting she was currently working on. Michelle peaked back at Gwen with a grin.

“I mean, yes, but I still had to get maybe pregnant to get him to step up.” She said. “Don’t get me wrong, we were going to get married no matter what, Peter just likes things to be so perfectly romantic that he never just takes the leap.”

“Oh my gosh, MJ! That’s it! I just need to get definitely pregnant!”

“No, no, no! That’s not what I’m saying.” Michelle stood to grab her phone when she heard it buzz. She looked down and realize what time it was. “Oh my gosh, I got to go! Damn, I’m going to be late.”

“What, what are you doing?” Gwen asked taking another sip of her coffee, her dark hair falling in her face.

“The meeting.” Michelle grabbed her coat and groaned, grabbing her stomach as she felt the tightness in it. “God, I didn’t realize it was possible to be this tired and bloated all the time.”

“Maybe its twins!” Gwen chimed in, and Michelle’s blood pressure spiked.

“Don’t even say that.”

* * *

Peter sat in the Doctor’s office with her as they stared at the picture of the anatomy of a pregnant woman on the wall. It seemed like it wouldn’t work.

“How is it possible that something that giant comes out of there?” She asked in a hushed tone even though no one was in the room with them.

“It looks like something out of that really old sci-fi horror movie.” Michelle turned to him and hit his arm.

“That is _not_ helpful!” Peter went to grab her side, but the two straightened up when the doctor stepped into the room.

“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting.” He said, taking a seat behind the massive oak desk.

Michelle motioned to the photograph behind him. “Is that picture necessary? It’s pretty – terrifying.” She laughed, but the Doctor just stared at her, a strange look on his face. She felt Peter tense beside her, looking around in a way that meant his spider-sense was buzzing in his head. She shook the thoughts from her mind, waiting for him to speak.

“Um, Michelle, I’m afraid I have some difficult news.” Peter’s hand tightened on her own as they waited. _She felt like she was suspended in the air. Bungee jumping, her feet having left the bridge as she leapt, trusting the rope around her ankles to catch her_. “The blood test shows that you are not pregnant.” Suspended.

“Oh.” She felt this loss for a child that she hadn’t even known for certain was there. “Are you sure?” She asked, because she had been having symptoms. She had been certain.

_Suspended._

“Yes.” Dr. Michaelson confirmed.

“Oh, okay. I mean, that’s okay. There’s always more time to try. I – I mean, the whole thing was kind of a surprise anyways, not like we planned it.” She tried to joke it off as Peter gripped her hand tighter.

“Yeah, yeah – we probably weren’t even ready.” He agreed, supporting MJ despite the constant, low thrum that something was wrong. The weight in his stomach that they weren’t having a baby. He had been so excited about it.

“Right.” Michelle agreed, nodding. _Suspended. Closer to the ground._ “It-it-it’s just … it’s weird. Because, um –“ She pressed her hand against the baby? “I mean, I know it’s super early, but I-I really feel something there.” The doctor nodded, face grim. _The rope was tightening._

“The sonogram shows that… you have a mass in your pelvis, roughly the size of a tangerine. And it can mimic a pregnancy.” _Tightening. The ground coming closer._

“A mass? What kind of a mass?” Peter questioned from beside her, tightening his grip again, and she had to wiggle her wrist to let him know it was starting to hurt.

“I don’t want you guys to panic, because it could be nothing…”

_The rope got too tight. It should pull her up. There was no give._

_It snapped._

There’s this moment when everything changes. A person looks back, and they can see this time before. See the person they were before. Thinking about whether it’s a boy or a girl, and tiny fingers and tiny toes, and baby cribs, and laying the bed with him, their baby napping between them, and being a mom. And then that moment disintegrates – that person changes into something completely new in a second. A caterpillar, gone through a metamorphosis of pain and fear and heartbreak, never to burst out of the cocoon.

That person that was before, will never be again.”


	2. Be Held

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t-don’t butter me up. Just give it to me straight. I can take it.” Cho gave a curt nod.
> 
> “I’m sorry Michelle, but the tests have shown that the tumors are cancerous.” Peter let out a harsh breathe.
> 
> “Tumors?” Peter asked, his voice shaking slightly. “As- as in plural?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I don't know how often updates will come, but we shall see! I hope you're all well and safe!!

Peter was shaking as they stepped out of the office. His face was pale as he forced a shaky breath in through his nose. Michelle watched him with guilt. They had already been given recommendations for specialists, but Michelle knew that she would be meeting with Peter’s primary Doctor, Helen Cho.

She looked at his face, watching as he tried to blink back the tears that were pooling in his eyes, biting his lower lip as it shook. 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered, reaching for his hand.

“Don’t – don’t apologize. This… I shouldn’t be the one crying. I should be the one comforting. Give me a second, I’m sorry.” He bent down, hands on his knees as he continued to take deep breaths.

She wanted to tell him that it was okay for him to have this reaction. If she… well if things didn’t get better, she wasn’t going to be the one that had to deal with the _after._

Peter forced himself to stand, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I’m calling Tony. He-he’ll get this figured out.” Peter’s fingers were shaking as Michelle rested her hand on top of his.

“Pete.” He kept trying to slide his screen up, so she gently pulled his phone away from him. “How about we go home? We’ll call Tony tomorrow. One day won’t make a difference.” Her voice was so soft, and Peter was blown away by how strong she was. He couldn’t bear to look at her and see that she was sick… that she was – no he couldn’t think of that. He just stared at their hands intertwined. He wanted to scream.

Because how dare the universe do this? How _dare_ the universe give him person after person to love only to rip them away from him. One-by-fucking-one. He had thought that his parents were enough. That the price he paid for growing up without them had already been too much. Then Ben… and he had said to himself, _surely. Surely, it cannot get to be more than this._ Because he was a chip on a glass, slowly breaking off, and he was certain that to lose her – to lose Michelle, that would be the chip that shattered him. Shredding him to the point that no super glue, no careful hands could ever pull him back together from.

Michelle pulled him from his stupor with a kiss to his jaw. “Let’s just go home right now.”

* * *

Michelle left Peter in the living room as she stepped into the shower. She scrubbed and scrubbed, looking down at the small bump that showed from her stomach. She wanted to scream. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. They were supposed to go and look at baby clothes and cribs, and dream about what their kid would like and where they would want to go to school. But she didn’t cry. She wouldn’t let this get the best of her. Out of everyone in this whole world, she was lucky. She didn’t have to worry about the finances of her care. Tony wouldn’t even imagine letting them pay for this themselves. They didn’t even know if the masses were cancerous yet. They could be freaking out about nothing.

* * *

Peter and Michelle lay in their bed, limbs entangled as they watched the dreary rain dripping down the window pane.

“At least we won’t have to pay for college.” She offered up, Peter’s fingers running through her hair in a rhythmic manner. He’d been too quiet. She hated when he was quiet. “Unless it’s a really smart tumor.” She said, with a dry snort. Peter gave her an unamused look. “Too soon?” She asked. He gave a curt nod.

“Yeah, I’d say two hours is too soon.” Peter said as Michelle just shrugged. “A tangerine is bigger than an orange.” He said with a dry tone.

“Or a grapefruit.” She replied, looking down at her stomach.

“What’s bigger than a grapefruit?” Peter asked.

“A watermelon.” They replied at the same time… they didn’t laugh.

* * *

Tuesday morning, when the two woke up, it wasn’t to their usual morning routine. Michelle grabbed a sweater and as she was pulling her hair into a pony tail she felt a wave of nausea roll through her. She turned to the toilet and bent down, throwing up her coffee and eggs that she’d had for breakfast.

She felt Peter behind her, hands holding her hair for her as he rubbed a hand soothingly over her back. She finished with a grunt and leaned back against his chest.

“God – that’s disgusting.” She said as Peter just continued to rub her back.

“Are you good to stand?” Peter asked, his mouth drawn in a terse line. She nodded.

“Yeah, I’m about ready. Just let me brush my teeth.” He helped her stand as they both tried to pretend that it didn’t happen.

* * *

Tony had greeted them at the door of the tower, his face drawn into tense lines as he pulled Michelle into a hug. The two of them had taken a bit to warm up to one another, but after a few weeks, they had quickly become inseparable.

“Whatever you need, I’ve got you. Helen is the world’s best… literally.” He whispered quietly into her ear as she squeezed his back harder.

“Thank you, Tony.” They let go of one another, and Peter gave the man a grim nod, thanking him for everything he was doing. He led them to the elevator, and Michelle leaned her head against Peter’s shoulder, his arm around her protectively. She was exhausted. The bone deep exhaustion that had once felt so exciting – the thought of pregnancy – now felt like it was a force pulling her straight into an early grave.

Dr. Cho greeted them at the elevator, professional and kind as she greeted Michelle. They had met before… more times than Michelle would have liked to admit. She would get a call from FRIDAY, and with a rush she would hustle to the tower to see Peter banged or bruised or stitched up. She would thank Helen, get mad at Peter and then sit with him until he woke up. She had spent many hours here, but she had never expected to be the one on the bed.

Helen ran test after test on Michelle. As the hours droned on Michelle began to think about Peter. She had never been much of one to think about the “what if’s” or life. She was black and white. Life was what it was, and you had what you had. But as she lay in the machines, being poked and prodded, she began to think about the what ifs. What if this was cancer. What if she did die. What if Peter was all alone. He was too good. Girls would flock him, and Michelle couldn’t stand the idea of him being played with – his heart being tossed around while he was already in an unstable time. He was so pure, looking for the best in every person – it would be so easy for someone to use him in a bad way. Since ninth grade Michelle had known that she was going to end up with Peter. Since she had met him and they had immediately hit it off, she had known. So the idea that one of them would have to live without the other… it seemed impossible.

Michelle broke from her stupor, her hand wrapped in Peter’s as she shifted uncomfortably on the bed, pulling the blanket up higher.

“You alright?” He’d asked in a low voice.

“Yeah. I don’t how you can handle being in here all the time.” She said, eyes cutting out of the glass wall to see Tony standing, speaking on the phone.

“Well, I always have this really gorgeous girl sitting beside me, somehow I always manage through it.” She snorted.

“Hm, and her beauty gives her value?” Peter tilted his head, a slight quirk in his eye.

“Yeah, I think that it does. I’d hate to look at someone beside my bed that wasn’t at least somewhat visually pleasing.” Michelle raised her brows.

“Is that so? Well, then you’re going to have to get out of here.” Peter feigned hurt, grabbing at his chest as the two of them began to laugh – for the first time since the news that they had received the day before.

Then Peter’s head had lifted, his eyes falling on someone outside of the room. Michelle turned her head and saw Helen, somber-faced as she said a few words to Tony and gave him a curt nod. The two looked inside the room then. And that was the moment that Michelle’s life switched.

She was no longer able to imagine that maybe she wasn’t sick. Because if Michelle had one talent, it was the ability to read people. She knew that she was sick. She knew that it was bad. Helen didn’t even have to say the words.

Helen stepped into the room, Tony right behind her. The doctor went to open her mouth, but Michelle held up a hand.

“Don’t-don’t butter me up. Just give it to me straight. I can take it.” Cho gave a curt nod.

“I’m sorry Michelle, but the tests have shown that the tumors are cancerous.” Peter let out a harsh breathe.

“Tumors?” Peter asked, his voice shaking slightly. “As- as in plural?” Michelle felt … disconnected. Like she was hearing a story about someone else’s life.

“Yes. Our tests are showing three tumors. Two, roughly the size of tangerines, and one the size of a grapefruit.” Michelle swallowed. She couldn’t feel her fingers. “I know how hard this must be to hear. It’s incredibly rare in someone your age. It’s just… I’m sorry Michelle – it’s terrible luck.” She could feel Peter rubbing her hand, but it was odd – as if it weren’t hers. “Now, we can talk about options whenever you’re ready.”

“Is there one that doesn’t involve dying?” She asked, misbelief in her voice. Cho just looked at her with a sad face. She turned to look at Peter who was so pale that he looked as though he were seconds away from needing a hospital bed himself.

“I’ve already consulted with a colleague, and after the initial surgery, there’s a clinical trial I’d like to enroll you in.” Cho said.

“You didn’t answer my question?” Michelle pushed. Cho gave a curt nod.

“I don’t like to make predictions. But, in addition to your treatment, I want to talk to you about your quality of life. We can help with pain management.” So yes, Michelle decided. She was going to die. “And some palliative care. Also, some people have found great solace from support groups.” After that, all of Cho’s words melted together. At some point she pulled off her bathrobe and stepped into the clothes she had brought. Cho had told her to go home, rest. Said they would talk again the next day. Peter had wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, almost carrying her weight as she leaned up against him.

She kept repeating the same thought to herself over and over again. She was going to die, she was going to die, she was going to die. However terrible it sounds; she had always thought that Peter was going to die first. He lived a … dangerous lifestyle. So she never had predicted that she would be the first to go.

Of all the thoughts that brought her pain, the worst was the knowledge that he would be alone. Peter Parker could handle mob bosses, terrorists, and thieves. He had been to outer space and fought against the psychotic being that had ruined the world. But if there was one thing he could not handle; Peter Parker could not survive being alone.

* * *

Michelle spoke to her parents the next day. They cried; said they were going to come see her. They had moved to Texas her sophomore year of college; her dad having been promoted in his job. She had said that they didn’t need to, telling them she needed to figure everything out. She knew her father’s job was demanding; it would be hard for them to get away. They weren’t the closest of families anyway.

Peter had gone on an afternoon patrol at Michelle’s urging. He had needed to let off steam, and she needed a few moments to be alone.

Michelle sat at the kitchen table, pulling out her wedding planner. She stared down at it with anger beginning to burn through her chest. She pulled out her phone, dialing the first number she had on the contacts list.

“Hi, this is Michelle Jones, from the Jones-Parker wedding.”

“Hi, Mrs. Jones. What can I be doing for you today?” The lady from the venue asked in a chipper voice. “Mm. Yeah, um so we had booked your venue for our wedding, but, uh… unfortunately it turns out I’ll be…” She almost said ‘dying’ but that would put a real damper on the mood. “I’ll be unavailable. Um, so we were hoping that we could still get the deposit back.” Michelle felt tears forming in her eyes as she did her best to keep her voice even, the woman was very kind and helpful. But all Michelle could think was that she wasn’t going to walk down the aisle of the beautiful church they had found. She would never get to walk down that aisle.

* * *

She finished cancelling as much of the wedding as she could handle before she was a weeping mess. Michelle moved to the couch with a cup of tea, pulling a knit blanket tightly around her shoulders. She heard her phone buzzing – her mind frozen as she let it ring a few too many times. She blinked herself from her stupor and grabbed the phone, sliding to answer it.

“MJ, how are you feeling?” Peter asked, and she could tell he was on top of a building somewhere in the city.

“I- Peter, I’m scared.” He was one of the few people she could admit that to.

“It’s-it’s going to be okay.” He muttered.

“What if I die?” She heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone.

“We’re going to fight this. We have Tony, Dr. Cho. I’ll always be there for you.”

“I know… I know. I’m just – I’ll be fine. I just need a minute, need to-” She didn’t want to ask Peter to come home. He needed to work, to get his mind off of her for a bit. But sitting on the couch in their apartment, alone, exhausted, and terrified about the surgery coming up – she just really needed to be held.

“I’m on my way.” Peter’s voice pulled her from her stupor.

“N-no, you need to…” But she couldn’t even force herself to finish the sentence.

“I’m buying churros and I’ll be home. Give me fifteen minutes.” Michelle let out a deep sigh, her throat choking up.

She loved that Peter was there. He was present and no matter what, if she needed him – he was there.

“Thank you.”

* * *

When Peter arrived at their apartment, Michelle was still on the couch, wrapped in her blanket. He gave her a soft smile, changing out of the suit before plopping down beside her.

“Hey.” He muttered, pulling the blanket over him, and wrapping his arm around her. They began to eat the churros in silence. “Do you want to talk or watch something?” Michelle knew one thing; she _really_ didn’t want to talk. She just needed to be _with_ him.

“Sherlock re-runs?” She suggested; Peter’s eyes bore into her – like they always did. There was so much behind them. Caring, protective, kind, love, gentleness, stubbornness, pride, love, loyalty, love. She loved him. When the world was crashing down, the tides of the ocean beginning to break down her barriers, he was there to block them. He was there to protect her. He was her hero, and she just needed to be held by him. To be encased in the safety net that _was_ Peter.

So as they snuggled on the couch, the sun going down on the city, she just let herself be held.


	3. Death Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That’s an ugly color.” He stated simply, as if saying the sky were blue.
> 
> “Well – my fiancé picked it out. It’s my death hat.” Bobby gave her a strange look.
> 
> “Death hat?” He asked as though Michelle were the one that had offended him.
> 
> “Well, I’m dying. I’m making my fiancé an ugly hat. Worse things have happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy!! I am EXHAUSTED! I'm trying to reset my sleep schedule so I skipped sleep last night... and I'm working all day. And I really want to be in bed - but hey! I got chapter three here for you guys! Please enjoy!
> 
> Also - make sure to let me know what you think :) I'm loving writing this fic and I'm hoping you are all loving reading it!!!

“Hi.” She said quietly. Doctor Cho had been called out of town, but she had messaged Michelle to let her know that she had a nurse waiting on her in the living room at the tower. She had thought for certain that she would be in the med-bay, but Tony had set her up to be in a comfortable chair in front of the massive television.

There was a young-looking male nurse waiting for her when she walked in. Peter had insisted on coming with her, but Michelle had pushed him into going out to patrol. Truthfully, she didn’t really want him to see her at her first chemo treatment. She had been trying to reassure herself that this wasn’t as big of a deal as she felt it was.

“Hello?” The nurse said again, and Michelle blinked out of her stupor.

“Hi. I’m Michelle.” The nurse smiled softly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Dominic, and I’m going to be running your treatment here for the time being. Mr. Stark hired me to make sure you’re comfortable and looked after at all times. I am on call for you whenever you need me.” Dominic handed her a card. “Here’s my information. If you’re at home and something doesn’t feel right, or even if you just have a question about how many Tylenol you should take, you just call me.” Michelle nodded. “Alright, so you can take a seat right there.” He motioned to the couch beside the IV bags. She sat down, gripping her book tightly.

“Good thing you brought a book. Pillows and blankets are right there, and the remote is on the table. If you get hungry or thirsty just let me know, we have pretty much everything you could want.”

“Okay.” Dominic nodded, sitting on a rolling chair as he scooted up to the arm of the couch.

“Uh, yes, you will feel like shit after this, but it’s different for everybody. No, your hair won’t fall out immediately, and you look like you have plenty of it anyway, so you’re doing good on that spectrum.

He was in the middle of wiping her left arm off when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. Michelle grabbed it and sighed when she saw it was Peter. He was such a worrier.

“Oh, cute. Who’s that? Husband?” He asked, looking down at the ring on her finger.

“Fiancé.”

“What’s his name?”

“Peter.” She said before sliding her finger and holding her phone up to her ear.

“Hey, Pete. Dominic says ‘hi’.” She said as she felt the needle prick her arm. She winced.

“Oh… is that the nurse Mr. Stark hired?” And of course, Peter would know about Tony hiring her her own nurse… he probably suggested it.

Michelle had a strange relationship with Tony Stark. He was, everything to Peter. The chance at a Father that Peter had been stripped of over and over, and finally one was there. Tony was supportive, and he had always taken care of them. He was someone that Michelle could talk to when she was infuriated at Peter, someone that she could call when her idiot fiancé had gotten stabbed and was bleeding out in his arms. Someone that Michelle had come to think of as… well – a father. He had someone seemingly adopted both Peter and Michelle while not meaning to adopt one of them. Michelle loved him. And she knew he was going to take care of her, no matter what. So it didn’t surprise her at all that Tony had basically bought her a nurse.

“Yes, it is. Listen, I’m fine. About to start treatment, so I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I’m on my way home.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Love you too.” She said, setting the phone down.

* * *

And Dominic wasn’t joking when he said that she would feel like shit afterwards. Michelle had walked home feeling well and truly exhausted. She had called Peter, but he must have been in the middle of a fight because he didn’t answer. She dropped her book onto the counter and went to walk to her couch when she turned and grabbed the trash can. She bent over the garbage and puked. Her body was shaking like a leaf in the fall – like one gust would throw her from the top of the tree.   
When she finished throwing up, she couldn’t find it in herself to do anything but slide against the counter. Michelle grabbed her head with a groan as it pounded. She wanted to get to the couch, but the idea of moving made her feel like she would fall over.

“Hey – hey – hey. Michelle, Michelle!” Hands grabbed her face and she looked up to see Peter. Peter with a black eye and a cut lip, his mask left on the floor and his face was the litany of pure worry. “You alright?” She gave him a slight nod.

“I’m fine. Just, I just threw up, got dizzy.” He nodded.

“Okay, okay, I’m going to get you to the couch, alright?” Then she was swopped up, and Peter sat her gently on their couch. “Do you want water or one of my juices?” He asked, tossing a blanket over her.

“You would share a juice with me?” She asked, Peter gave her a small grin.

“Just this once. You know how much I like my juice.”

He walked back over to her, putting the juice in her hand, before rubbing it through her hair.

“Alright, I’m going to go change. Then it’s movie night. I’ll order takeout.” At the thought of food Michelle thought about throwing up again.

“No. No food.” She muttered.

“Pho?” He asked.

Damn. Pho was her weakness.

“Pho.”

* * *

“A crochet group?” Peter asked as she sipped the broth from her bowl. Michelle shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t know, Pete. I mean, what the hell else am I going to do? Trust me, it’s not my first choice of plans, but I’ve got to do something with my time.” He nodded.

“You could spend it with me.” He said, laying his head on her shoulder and rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand.

“ _You_ have work. And patrol, and I hang out with you all the time anyways.” Peter just laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fair. But you have to promise to crochet me a hat.” She snorted.

“What kind of hat?” Damn, she loved him so much.

“A beanie. Whatever color you want.” His voice was a whisper.

“What if I make it a bright – gaudy orange?”

“Oh, I’d wear the hell out of a bright, gaudy orange beanie that my fiancée made me.” She laughed, leaning her had back against the couch. Not feeling the effects of the chemo for the first time that day. Peter had that effect on her. Whenever she was certain her day couldn’t get any worse – when she thought she was in the pits and her life was over – there was Peter Parker. The sun in her life that was shining on her face, warming her from her core. God, she loved him. She couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him alone.

Michelle didn’t realize she was crying until Peter pulled her head to his chest, hushing her softly as his hands messaged the back of her head.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you, baby. It’s okay.”

* * *

“Hey, come on in. We’re just getting started.” The man said. There was a circle of chairs, with people with varying lives brought together by the same problem – they were all dying. Some faster than others, some slower. But dying all the same.

She pulled the hook and yarn she had bought out of her bag.

“Have you ever heard of Catholic yoga?” The blonde chick beside Michelle said. She turned and stared at the girl; her eyebrows low over her face.

“That’s a thing?” An older man said from across the circle.

“Yeah! I feel like I’m in touch with the beyond… or whatever.”

And so the group went. It was the strangest group of strangers that Michelle had ever been around.

There was Kate, the Catholic-yoga girl. She was a candy maker at some shop in Brooklyn. She was single, owned three dogs that were the loves of her life, and she really loved Catholic yoga. Stage two.

Margaret. She was an older lady, mid-forties. She was married, but he husband was pretty zoned out of her life. She worked in a DMV office, and really loved Cher. Stage three.

Bobby. Bobby was almost eighty. He had been married since he was nineteen to his wife, Hannah. Bobby had been a lawyer, retired for twelve years. Stage four.

They were the three that talked the most. The rest of them were quiet. So nice – but very quiet. Then the introductions got turned to her.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh – um, Michelle.”

And so it went.

After the meeting, and hearing Bobby drone on and on about a hawk that he liked to watch with his wife Meryl in central park every morning, she started heading to the door when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Stay for a while.” Bobby said, his face was soft lines and kindness – but he wore these God-awful vests that looked as though they belonged in the bottom of the bin at a thrift shop only middle-aged women shopped at.

“I’m not much of a… mingler.” Bobby looked down at the sad start to her hat.

“That’s an ugly color.” He stated simply, as if saying the sky were blue.

“Well – my fiancé picked it out. It’s my death hat.” Bobby gave her a strange look.

“Death hat?” He asked as though Michelle were the one that had offended him.

“Well, I’m dying. I’m making my fiancé an ugly hat. Worse things have happened.”

“You never crocheted before have you?” Damn, Michelle never really realized how judgmental old people were.

“I didn’t really have time then… I mean I don’t really have time now, and I’m especially uninterested in discovering that crocheting is a metaphor for healing or some other shit like that.” Bobby just nodded, with a _humph._

“What you’re feeling is totally-” He started, but Michelle cut him off when she raised her hand.

“If you say that what I’m feeling is totally normal, I may actually throw my fiancé’s death hat at you.” Bobby just laughed. “I wish people would stop telling me that totally insane things are normal. I’m twenty-four. I shouldn’t be dying of cancer. It’s not _normal._ ”

“Insane things are normal.” She just gave her head a shake, staring at the dingy ceiling of the church basement she was in. n

“And you just accept that? Everything that’s going on? People with completely fucked lives pretending their worlds aren’t falling apart because the crocheted a damn scarf?” She didn’t know where the anger came from – honestly, Bobby was nice. These people were all nice. They didn’t deserve the full force of her anger, but she wasn’t done yet. “You make jokes about your wife of over sixty years having a new boyfriend? That’s not normal.” Bobby just smiled at her, as though he knew so much more than she did… to be fair he probably did. But he didn’t get angry, he just shrugged.

“I don’t accept it, but in the event that I do kick the bucket,” he said it casually, as though he didn’t have stage four pancreatic cancer. “Then I hope she does find a boyfriend. Somebody nice. Less well-endowed to be sure, but nice nonetheless.”

And she really did not want to think about anyone finding someone nice when she was gone. She didn’t want to think about it at all.

“Well, I think I’m just in a different situation. Peter and I – we’ve known each other since we were kids. We’ve been together for as long as I can remember…” Her voice trailed off.

“How old is he?” Bobby asked, and his voice was too gentle, because Michelle really wanted to be allowed to be angry at him.

“Just turned twenty-four.”

“Yeah, he’s going to go through a major slut phase.” And at that, her mouth dropped wide open.

“Excuse me?” She asked, honestly astounded that Bobby had the nerves to say that to her face. He just laughed, a wrinkled hand rubbing over his face.

“I also have Tourette’s.” She give a simple nod.

“Good to know. Well… thanks for the advice.”

“Alright. I’ll see you next week.”

And that was the end to the strangest group meeting Michelle had ever been to in her life.


	4. Artisan Coffee Attracts Great Girls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you going to go through a slut phase?” Peter’s head whipped from his pillow as he stared at her like she grew a second head.
> 
> “What?! No.” He shook his head, confusion riddling his face. “Why would you even say that?” She just shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing to say for myself...  
> its been almost three months since this bad boy has been updated, my sincerest apologies! Butttt at least you know its not abandoned!! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Michelle leaned against the kitchen island, looking down at her calendar – all of the crossed-out plans with a heavy weight sat in her stomach. Peter was looking down at his laptop when she got the overwhelming urge to ask him the question that had been haunting her all day.

“Are you going to go through a slut phase?” Peter’s head whipped from his pillow as he stared at her like she grew a second head.

“What?! No.” He shook his head, confusion riddling his face. “Why would you even say that?” She just shrugged.

“You’re not even thinking about it?” She asked, her fingers tracing circles on his chest.

“I can promise you that is the absolute farthest thing from my mind right now. It further than like, meeting someone on Tinder.” Michelle just laughed.

“I mean, Tinder can’t be _that_ far from your mind because you just said it, which means you had to be thinking about it, which means you’re thinking about this too.” She stated, matter-of-factly.

“Damn, I’m busted.”

“I’m being serious.” Peter just shook his head, giving her his classic puppy-dog eyes. But she wasn’t going to let them work on her right now.

“Don’t do the whole innocent thing. This is a disaster.” Peter rolled his eyes and leaned closer to her.

“Okay, I’ll humor you. What on earth are you talking about?” With a deep huff of air she forced her eyes to meet his.

“You don’t even know, because you have no experience. Women are going to eat you alive, Pete.” Because God, who wouldn’t? He was perfect. Kind – so kind in everything he did. He was loyal and serving and sacrificial and if there was one thing Peter Parker radiated it was an innocent.

“I can take care of myself, MJ.” He insisted. Michelle could tell he was getting annoyed with her, and honestly, she was getting annoyed with herself. Michelle wasn’t much of one to become jealous or territorial, but cancer could change many things about a person.

“But what if you can’t?” She wanted to grab him by the shoulders and smack him into listening. Begging him to understand that this wasn’t just about her. What if he got hurt as Spider-Man and did something stupid and went to their apartment. What if that time – when she was gone – he didn’t have anyone to call Tony? What if Peter, being the blessed idiot that he was, didn’t get the help he always got when she was there? “Who’s going to match your socks? Or keep up with your web-shooters, or make you chicken the way you like it?” She felt a lump forming in her throat. Peter made a weird face as he shrugged his shoulders.

“You don’t make me chicken.” He simply stated, but that wasn’t the point.

“Yeah, but I would, hypothetically.” She threw out, her hand gripping their marble countertop as tight as she could muster.

“Well, our hypothetical chicken has been in the freezer for like… a year.” Peter threw back at her, leaning back on the barstool.

Maybe it was the chemo, or maybe she had just well and truly lost her mind, but Michelle turned and wretched the freezer open, throwing bags of frozen peas and corn around as she looked for the frozen chicken. She grabbed the cold package and ripped it out of the freezer.

“MJ, what are you doing?”

“I’m cooking the damn chicken.” She spat, setting the frozen bird in the sink and ripping at the packaging.

“Now?” He asked incredulously, watching her as though she had lost her mind… maybe she had.

“No time like the present.” She insisted, grabbing her phone as she looked up a recipe.

“Michelle-”

“No. I need to be alone right now. Alright? I’m gonna cook us a chicken, and we are going to have dinner, and I just really would love if you would put on some music and leave me alone.” She looked down at the recipe, not understanding a single word, but by God, she was going to cook this chicken and it was going to be the best thing they had eaten. And if it wasn’t… well, dying gave people a great excuse to lie and tell say that you cooked the best chicken in the whole damn world.

* * *

Michelle laid in bed that night, wrapped in Peter’s arms as he snored softly, thinking about what he was actually going to do. Peter hadn’t been single since early in high school. He was too innocent to understand how dating would work. She couldn’t possibly leave him to fend for himself out there.

The idea popped into her head suddenly. She has no clue how or where it came from, but it wasn’t too bad of an idea. If she could find Peter someone, someone she trusted and liked, then maybe she could die at least knowing she left him someone good. She could have a little bit of control on how hurt Peter got, keep him from being played.

Michelle immediately began to go through different people. She honestly didn’t know that many people, but she could find someone. She had… time. Kind of. Enough time to at least get Peter a head start.

She fell asleep that night wrapped in plans of keeping Peter afloat.

* * *

The next crochet group consisted of Martin, one of the quieter members, expressing how his scans had been really bad last time. He was in the middle of a tearful rendition of his doctor’s visit when Kate stopped him short.

“Martin, you have to stop yourself from going there. It’s all about attitude.” She encouraged, but Bobby put a hand up.

“Kate, let’s let Martin have his process.” Bobby offered, and Kate gave him a fervent nod.

“Oh, absolutely. Yeah. I just think that his process should be more… positive.”

“Everyone is entitled to… to be sad.” Margret butted in.

“Thank you.” Martin said, as he added a loop to the scarf he was working on.

“You know what I’m loving these days?” Kate cut in again. She was... erratic. But she meant well. “I’m loving meditation. And I – I know it sounds cliché, but I just have been feeling so blessed every time I sit there in silence. Maybe you could try that.” Everyone in the group gave one another a strange look.

Michelle felt herself let out a bitter laugh.

Kate gave Michelle a strange look, her light eyes bugging out a bit.

Michelle stuck her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat.

"Or we could laugh." Kate spit out. "That's okay too."

"Sorry, I'm so sorry." Michelle said as she gave a slight shake of her head. "It's not, it's not you." Michelle slipped her phone down into her lap. "I was - it's just that some of these girls are so corny." She looked up at the group with a shrug. "I mean, 'I want to dip you in whipped cream, and put my cherry on top' like, what does that even mean?" She snorted again, swiping left.

"I mean, it sounds sexual." Margaret said, and Michelle realized she had set them off on an extremely awkward conversation.

"Alright, I think that's enough for the day." Martin said with a nod, giving Michelle a wild look.

Michelle stood to leave, sticking her barely completed death hat into her bag. When she stood, Martin was directly in front of her, his wrinkled face showing plain amusement.

"Were you sexting right now? In the middle of a cancer group?" He accused.

"Let me have my process." Michelle shrugged.

"Your process is sexting?" He asked incredulously.

"Hey, you're the one that said Peter was going to go through a slut phase. At first, I thought it was just the grumpy-dying-man, but then I thought about it. You're right Martin."

"You could say that again." Martin said.

"The thing is, Peter's going to be a chick-magnet. He's the...heroic type." She knew that was a drastic understatement. "The worst part is, he isn't going to know how to handle it. Peter is... I'm the only person he's ever dated. He's going to be lonely and depressed, and Peter isn't always the best at making good decisions, and he is maybe the kindest person ever, but that means he only sees the good in people. I'm the opposite. I look at people and see their worst, we balance one another out. But without me, how is he going to find a girl that doesn't completely take control of his life?"

Martin raised an eyebrow and gestured to Michelle. "Imagine that."

"I have to make sure he finds love and learns how to roast a chicken." She said, oblivious to the fact that it was maybe the craziest sentence she'd ever said.

"Mhm, classic rookie mistake." Martin said, and Michelle felt a spark of indignation light in her chest.

"What do you mean by that?" She spit out.

"You think that you can do something to lessen the loss. That the fact that you're dying can be made okay if you prepare him enough."

Michelle let out a huff.

"There's a word for it. 'Anticipatory grieving'. You're trying to cope with the loss of something before it even happens."

"That's not even a thing." Michelle said, but her stomach was sinking as Martin pointed to the people lounging around behind him.

"Oh, really? Well, Meryl over there writes a birthday card to her husband for every year she's gonna be gone, and Jim...makes a video montage of himself as Santa for all the Christmases he's gonna miss with his kids. It doesn't change anything." Martin just gave a small shrug.

Michelle, for a brief moment, listened to what this crazy old man was saying. 

"My advice, you're hooking him up?" Martin gestured to her phone as she gave him a nod. "Concentrate on a booty. Yours you know, it's... it's flat." He stated simply as Michelle's mouth gaped. 

"My booty is not flat." She argued. 

"You have a terrible ass." Martin countered. 

Michelle rolled her eyes. "Fuck you."

"See you next week, Michelle." Martin said as he laughed on his way out of the building.

* * *

Peter sat on the couch with Ned, playing a game on the PS4.

"I mean, we can look into doctors Peter! You have Tony Stark on your side." Ned said as he shot at their enemy. "I'm sure he's on the phone with like, doctors in Germany, the Wakandans, you know?"

Peter felt his stomach drop any time he had to think about the fact that Michelle was sick. It had been a long ass day at Stark Industries, and patrol had been full of annoying thugs that made Peter want to stick his head through a window.

"And Michelle, I mean, she's gonna beat this cancer's ass. She's not the roll-over type,"

Peter coughed, interrupting Ned.

"Ned, could we talk about something else? I mean, literally anything else. I've had a really long day." Peter stated simply, the exhaustion in his words enough to have his friend pause the game to take a long look at him.

"Yeah, Peter. Of course. Sorry, man."

Peter felt bad about cutting his friend off, especially when Ned was so close to moving, but he couldn’t think about the depressing nature of his life for one more second that day or he was certain his head would explode.

* * *

Michelle sat opposite of Gwen, sipping on the coffee the blonde handed to her as she scrolled through the dating site once more.

Gwen Stacey worked at the coffee shop under Michelle’s art studio. She was shorter than Michelle by several inches. She had white-blonde hair that perfectly framed her face, and blue eyes that drew every ounce of your attention to them.

Michelle and Gwen had quickly become friends when Michelle had taken the studio over. Gwen would come over to Michelle and Peter’s for dinner and movies. Michelle had tried to set Gwen and Ned up on a date, but Ned had just told her he wasn’t looking for a relationship at the moment. He’d liked Gwen when he met her, but he had received an offer to go work for a tech company in Beijing, and he was seriously considering it. So, no relationships for him.

Gwen Stacey liked iced lattes and nachos. She loved reading, she seemed to always have her nose completely stuck in a book. She somehow also enjoyed science-y things and was currently working online to get her master’s in biomedical engineering. She had grown up in Virginia, a slight accent twinged her lips when she talked. She was on scholarship to online classes for her Master’s, and she worked at the coffee shop to pay for the price of living in New York.

Michelle had never expected to find a friend like Gwen, but she had been overjoyed when she had.

When Michelle had called her to break the news… it had been a terrible night of her friend crying and praying for her. Michelle wasn’t much of one for religion, but she had appreciated the beautifully spoken words and the meaning behind her friend’s prayers.

"This is literally, the dumbest shit I've ever seen." Gwen stated, pouring steamed milk into a double shot. "And when you get better,"

"If." Michelle interrupted. A fiery stare from Gwen had her closing her mouth once again.

"I meant what I said. _When_ you get better, you're going to feel like a real ass."

"You're not allowed to talk to me like that. I'm sick." Michelle let out a fake cough as Gwen pursed her lips.

"That doesn't matter in this context, MJ."

Michelle gave another cough, placing the back of her hand to her forehead in an exaggerated manor.

"I'm siiiiickkk, Gwen."

A farm hand smacked on the counter in front of Michelle. She straightened up, her eyes finding Gwen staring at her with dark eyes.

"I'm not kidding. Peter will literally _never_ be okay with this. You know that." She said.

Gwen was always the emotional one, so whenever she really spoke her mind, Michelle did her best to listen.

"It's going to work, Gwen." Michelle insisted, taking a loud sip from the coffee.

"It’s dumb."

"It’s not dumb, Gwen." Michelle let out a loud sigh, before resting her head on her hand. Her forehead was beginning to pound, and overall, she felt like shit. Chemo sucked ass. "I... there is _very_ little in my life that I can actually control right now. And one of the few things I can, is trying to do this for Peter. I know that he'll hate it at first, but he needs someone. He... Peter is really bad at being alone. And he has lost too much..." Michelle bit back the tears that were filling her eyes. "And I just, I hate myself. I always thought I could be his constant. May and I, we were the two people in his life that would always be there. I have seen what he goes through, the grief he feels on a daily basis... it is an ocean that he is drowning in. And, God, I know it's prideful, but I just always thought that I was his buoy. His life vest in the middle of the storm." She could see the picture so clearly in her mind. "Instead, I'm the chain that is going to wrap around his ankle and drag him straight to the bottom. And you know, he could be saved. But I'm not going to be here to do it." Michelle looked at Gwen. Gwen's blue eyes were shiny with tears as she watched her friend mourn. Michelle cleared her throat, forcing herself to sit up straight. "So, I have to do this. Whether it seems ideal or not. Whether he hates me or not.

* * *

Michelle met the first candidate that afternoon. A tall, lean girl with perfectly dark hair and kind hazel eyes. She was dressed professionally, and she ordered a hazel latte with almond milk. Gwen watched from behind the counter with a look of pure unease on her face.

The woman introduced herself, Kelly Truett, a biochemical engineer working at Columbia.

The two started a friendly conversation as Kelly let on about her life.

"So, I decided to cut out gluten. It just... I was so used to feeling, 'bleh'. You know?" Kelly said with a perfectly white smile. Michelle wanted to say, 'yeah, I have stage four cancer in my pelvis. I know a bit about feeling, 'bleh'.' But she just smiled and listened. "So, Peter, what is he into?”

“He works a lot. He runs a specialty research and development center out of Stark Industries. I don’t understand all of it.” That was Michelle’s code for, ‘spider-man stuff’. Michelle cleared her throat as she thought of Kelly and Peter together, her mind wandering to places she hated. “So, it says here you were Phi Theta Kappa in college?” She prompted. Kelly let out a perfect laugh.

“I had no life in college.”

Michelle grinned. “And now you work for the National Institute of Health?” Michelle wanted to roll her eyes. A lot of good that institute did her.

“Yes, I uh- still have no life. I’m just tired of being alone, you know? I go to work, come home, eat, sleep, repeat. I’m just really ready to share life with someone. I’m where I want to be career-wise, I’m ready to settle down, and have a family.” Michelle’s heart panged at the knowledge that she would never have one.

“Yeah, well, you sound like a great fit.” Michelle forced out with a gentle smile. “I’d love to set up a date for you two.” Michelle said with a soft smile.

“Yeah, of course. I just, have one question.” Kelly said, a curious expression crossing her features. “I just don’t quite understand why a man would send his assistant to pre-interview a date? I just… I don’t get it.”

Michelle wanted to curse. She knew this was where things got tricky. Kelly was smart, Michelle was trying to do something Peter didn’t know about, and it was all one big, unconventional way of going about things.

“So the thing is -“ Michelle got about half the story out before Kelly’s face went from curious to disgusted. The woman was out the door quicker than Michelle could say, “what date works for you?”

Gwen slid into the seat across from Michelle, her black apron filthy from her work.

“That didn’t go so well.” She said with a grim look. Michelle just rolled her eyes.

“No duh. Apparently, it’s a bit too strange for people.” Gwen just rubbed her forehead in agreement.

“Listen, we’re hosting an artisan coffee display here in two weeks, why don’t you… have a meetup thing here?” Gwen offered, shrugging her shoulders. “In no way does this mean that I support this crazy thing you’re doing, but this would be a good opportunity for Peter to meet some girls.”

“Really?” Michelle asked. Artisan coffee tastings drew in some pretty cool people, Michelle would know, she always went to them.

“Yeah, girl. Now, I’ve got to get back to work before I get fired. Stop moping and go paint something beautiful.” Gwen said as she stood up, grabbing the wet rag she’d sat on the table. “Love you!” Gwen called back as she went back to wiping tables.


	5. You Invited Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "God, how did I let you talk me into this?" She heard the old man grumble behind her.
> 
> "I didn't talk you into this. You texted me, and said, 'Louise is having friends over and kicking me out. Where are you?' You literally invited yourself over to hang out with me.”
> 
> Michelle rolled her eyes as Martin just continued to grumble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY ITS BEEN SO LONG BUT I'M BACK AND I REALLY HOPE TO START REGULAR UPDATES PLEASE ENJOY THIS CHAPTER
> 
> okay I'm done screaming

Michelle looked at the shirt in her hands as she tipped her head, imagining it on Peter.

"This is weird as hell." Martin said from behind her.

"What? Louise doesn't shop for you?" She asked, before realizing that Martin was wearing the ugliest sweater a top of cargo pants, and black ankle socks under brown sandals. "Forget I asked that." She said. "Anyways, Peter is in desperate need of clothes for spring." She muttered.

"Michelle, it’s the middle of summer." Martin said.

"Yes, I know that, but I won't be around next spring, and Peter - God help him - is absolutely terrible at shopping for himself." She stated simply.

"I can't believe you're so okay with all of this." Martin said, picking up a plaid bucket hat and trying it on.

"I'm not okay with any of this, Martin."

"I've been dying longer than you have." The old man stated simply.

"What does that have to do with the polo I buy Peter, exactly?" Blue, he looked really good in blue.

"Well, see... it's like this vest." Martin gestured at the sin of a vest he was wearing. It was a tattered mixture of patterns and clashing colors that was about two size too big for the spindly, bald man. "At first, everyone asks, 'what is it with this old man and his vest?' then I become the vest guy. I wear this damned thing everywhere. People hardly recognize me without it. It's a part of me. I look comfortable in it. So people come to accept that its part of what makes me... me." Martin stated simply.

"I will never accept you in that vest." Michelle challenged. Martin just rolled his eyes as she handed him the blue polo. "Alright, Vest Guy. Try this on so I can see how Peter would look in it."

Michelle watched Martin come out of the dressing room.

"Okay, okay, yeah. I think I like it." She stated. "Let me grab a pair of skinny jeans." She turned to walk away.

"God, how did I let you talk me into this?" She heard the old man grumble behind her.

"I didn't talk you into this. You texted me, and said, 'Louise is having friends over and kicking me out. Where are you?' You literally invited yourself over to hang out with me.”

Michelle rolled her eyes as Martin just continued to grumble.

* * *

"Okay, so sometimes our washer gets stuck, so you have to kick it in order for it to start." Michelle explained as Peter watched, his eyebrows furrowed. Michelle and Peter made a deal long ago that she would do the laundry if he did the dishes, so this was one of those house chores he just didn't understand. "Like this." She kicked the washer a few times, and the machine began to run again. "Just keep an ear out for it." 

When Michelle had asked Peter to walk with her so that she could explain the washer and dryer to him, he'd gotten really quiet. She knew that he understood why she wanted to show him how to run them, but neither of them were willing to admit it. 

"This is the timer, you just turn-" Michelle was mid-sentence when Peter whirled her around and began to kiss her intensely. She grunted into his kiss as he pulled her into the kitchen. "The washer." She mumbled as he continued to kiss her.

"Screw- I mean completely and utterly, screw the washer." Peter said as he kissed at her neck. His mouth found hers once more as he backed her up to the kitchen island.

Michelle was in the middle of raking her fingers through his hair, when she placed both hands on his chest and gave him a rough shove. Peter let out a startled yelp as she whirled to the kitchen sink and began to vomit up the contents of her stomach.

She felt hands on her back as she continued to throw up.

"Yeah, I do tend to have that effect on women." He stated, causing Michelle to laugh, before she retched again.

"Shut up, you - you can't make me laugh when I'm throwing up." A hand rubbed her back until she spit the last of it into the sink.

"Here." Peter said, handing her Le Croix from the fridge. Michelle had no clue when he'd gotten it out and opened it, but she took a grateful sip, washing the terrible taste of bile from her mouth. "Let's go lay down." He said, pulling her with him. Michelle grunted in agreement, her head absolutely pounding with pain.

It came and went, the discomfort. Sometimes she forgot she was sick. Sometimes the pain was so bad she laid flat on the ground as tears flowed from her eyes.

Peter pulled her into bed alongside himself, gently bringing the covers up around them as he slid his arm over her shoulder. She felt a gentle kiss get placed to the top of her aching forehead.

"I love you, MJ."

"Love you too." She said, burrowing her head deeper into his side.

"I've loved you since the beginning." He whispered, and Michelle felt her chest warm. She wasn't always one for romanticism, and she'd deny that she loved it until the day she died, but she would always feel as though she were on cloud nine when Peter started this bit they had going.

"I've loved _you_ since the beginning."

"I'll love you forever." Peter said, his voice cracking oddly.

Maybe because this was the first time they’d said this while realizing they didn't have forever. They didn't have anywhere near forever. Michelle was getting treated, she was seeing the doctors and doing everything she could... but the two of them knew she wasn't going to get better. The scans simply showed how impossible that was.

"I'll love you forever." She responded, barely a whisper.

A cry into the terrible arms of death that awaited her. A plea that it would release the grip it had around her throat. A terrible acknowledgement that she was days from leaving behind her soulmate. She wanted to scream, to punch, to kick, to claw her way out. But, how do you fight something that's inevitable? How do you fight death itself?

The answer is... you accept it. Like a brick having been dropped into the ocean.

There is nowhere to go but 

Down.

Down.

Down.

* * *

Michelle sat in the chair, her chemo dripping steadily into her arm as her mom sat, watching her like a hawk.

"You need to drink something." Her mom stated, standing suddenly.

"Mom, you need to calm down." Michelle said with a sigh. Her mom, although she loved her, was the epitome of a mother hen. And it drove Michelle absolutely bonkers.

"Chemotherapy is dehydrating, Michelle."

Michelle wanted to roll her eyes, but she just gave a small nod.

"There's a juice bar on the bottom floor of the tower." She stated. Her mother grabbed onto the idea by the horns.

"I'll go get you a juice."

She knew it broke her mother's heart to see her here.

She sat and waited as the chemo melted into her body. She knew the rest of the day she would be violently ill. Peter was called out on a mission in New Hampshire, and her mom was flying back in three hours. Gwen offered to come to her house and hang out while she waited on Peter to get home. It was decidedly not a good thing for her to be alone the first couple of days after chemo. Her mom had already been in town for a week and was desperately needed back at work.

When the chemo ended, Michelle's mom drove her back to her apartment. The ride was silent, as Mandy Jones did her best not to weep at her quiet daughter. Michelle threw up seconds before they left the hospital, and she looked terrible. Her head leaned against the window of the car as she groaned every time they hit a pothole.

Mandy helped her daughter up to their eighth-floor apartment, thanking God that there was an elevator.

"Are you sure there is nothing else I can get you before I go?" Mandy asked as Michelle just gave a slight shake of her head.

"Mom, I have juice, a blanket, a wet rag, a bin, and the remote. Gwen will be here in twenty minutes, and you have to get to your flight." Michelle reassured her mother as best as she could. When her mom didn't respond, Michelle peaked open an eye, to find Mandy staring down at her, mouth twisted to the side as tears filled her eyes. "I'm okay. I love you. You and dad will be back up here in a month, okay? I'll see you guys then."

Mandy reached forward, her hand clasping around Michelle's in a tight grip.

"He hates that he couldn't come this time."

"I know mom, he's apologized five times already. I'll see you guys in a month." She reassured.

"I love you, baby." Mandy said before leaning down and kissing Michelle's forehead.

"I love you too, mama."

* * *

Gwen arrived at Michelle's apartment quietly. She peaked into the dark living room and could immediately tell her friend was sound asleep. She gently set down the soup and crackers she'd brought from the bakery and hit the power button on the kettle.

Gwen pulled out two mugs and placed tea bags inside. She poured a bit of honey in Michelle's cup. She poured the hot water into the mugs and carried the food and drinks into the living area.

Gwen stared down at her friend with a heavy heart.

Michelle was vibrant. She was strong conversations and deep thoughts. She was constellations and debates, and just a little bit of honey. She was a powerhouse that pushed others on to better themselves. Michelle Jones was the epitome of a strong person.

And it terrified Gwen to see her look weak.

Her face paler than it had ever been, bags under her normally perfect complexion. She was covered in a quilt, and Gwen could see the remnants of throw up in the bin beside her.

Gwen set to work turning on the room’s diffuser, filling it with peppermint in hopes to lessen her friend's nausea. She grabbed the bin and ran it to the trash chute before replacing the bag and putting the can back by her friend. Gwen turned the temperature up in the apartment before pulling the soup from the bag and getting it ready for the two of them.

She hated to wake Michelle, but Peter had texted saying that Michelle's mom told him she hadn’t eaten since chemo, and Gwen knew her friend needed to eat and drink before she slept anymore.

Kicking her shoes off, Gwen slid onto the couch beside Michelle's feet, gently rubbing a hand up and down her friend's leg.

"Em? Time to eat something, hon." She said in a gentle voice. Michelle let out a tired groan an covered her eyes with her elbow. "Come on. I brought broccoli cheddar from the Beckery, and peppermint tea with honey." Gwen coaxed.

"Broccoli cheddar?" Came a muffled voice.

"Mhm. But you'll have to come out of hiding in order to eat it."

Michelle pulled her arm back and blinked her eyes tiredly.

"How ya feeling?" Gwen asked as Michelle pulled herself into a sitting position.

“Eh, I’ll be just fine. Thanks for bringing the soup and tea.” Michelle said before taking the cup from her friend and taking a sip of the warm liquid. It immediately soothed her throat. Gwen tucked her legs under her before pulling a blanket over herself and grabbing the remote.

“Alright, its fall. That means soup and Gilmore Girls.” Gwen said, turning on the pilot. The two ate their dinner as they laughed at their favorite show together.

By the end of the first episode Michelle was tucked under Gwen’s arm as her friend ran her fingers up and down on Michelle’s back. Michelle fell asleep by the title song of the second episode, comfortable in her friend’s arms.


	6. He told her a story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He told her the most wonderful story. The story of two people, who met when they were very young. Two people who were so different – two so different people who fell in love.
> 
> They grew up together, they went through hard things. They went through great things. But most importantly, they went through it all together. Side by side. He told how they went through hard things, how they came out of it on the other side. How they would have to say goodbye, and how scared one of them was. Because he was having to say goodbye to his rock, and he was so scared to be without her. But he didn’t want her to be in pain, he would give anything for her to not be in pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello... it has been a longggg time since I've updated this. Far too long. But - here it is! An update for you all! Only one chapter to go! I hope you all enjoy what is to come!

It really came out of nowhere – her idea. When she woke up on the couch to low voices speaking in her kitchen, it all crashed around her. Gwen and Peter. How had she not thought about this? Michelle had loved Gwen ever since she met her. The blonde girl deserved more than anyone would ever be able to give her. And Peter… Peter deserved the best. And how much better it would be for her if she could die knowing that Peter was going to be with someone she knew – someone she loved.

It would be perfect.

* * *

She could feel her time running out. Like the wind-up timer her mom used to keep in the kitchen. Each tick seeming as though it were going just a little faster.

Faster and Faster until she didn’t realize how little time she had left.

Michelle sat with Peter on their bed, her hair – or what was left of it – tied up neatly in a scarf. Peter was reading a book as Michelle stared at the letter she’d been writing for the past couple of weeks. Ever since she decided Gwen would be it.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Peter’s voice was quiet and gruff – rusty from the past couple hours of silent reading.

Michelle was silent – a fresh wave of emotions rolling through her. The past few weeks had been all about the tasks. All about setting up her funeral, so Peter wouldn’t have to. Buying Christmas presents for her family members, setting up a way for Peter to be delivered a letter from her every year on his birthday after she’d gone. She’d written so many letters, and each one brought with it a new wave of emotions as she pictured her Peter growing older. Each card opening on a face just that much more tired than it was the year before. New lines on his face to match the new lines on the card. Celebrations she would never see, anniversaries she would never live to. She thought about her Peter, getting letters until the day he wasn’t there anymore. She’d written over a hundred. Where would the letters go after Peter passed? Would they be delivered to some random person’s apartment? Would that person care to hear of the tale of Spider-Man and his first love? Of the women that did everything she could to stay but couldn’t fight hard enough. The story of a girl who had been fighting for everything she had in life – every opportunity, every breath – only to lose to something as soul-sucking as fucking cancer.

She hoped people read her letters. That her story carried on. She hoped Gwen would read them. That she would read them and cherish them and know how much Michelle loved her to hand something as precious as her heart and soul over to her friend on a silver platter.

“Em?” Peter’s voice sliced cleanly through her thoughts and she realized she was crying.

“I want you to be happy.” Her voice wavered, but she placed a cold hand on his cheek and continued forward. “I want you to find someone, and I want you to be so happy. My goal…” She choked on a breath. “My goal was to – no matter what – never hurt you. When things were hard and we went through ups and downs, that was my only goal. ‘Michelle, you do anything possible to keep yourself from hurting that boy. That boy that you love who has been through hell, who has lost more than anyone else you know… and I’m so sorry. The last thing I’m going to do is hurt you.”

Peter wrapped her up tightly as she began to weep, her heart breaking through the pain and disaster of that thought.

“No – no. You will never hurt me. You could never hurt me.” He repeated those words until Michelle fell asleep soundly, exhaustion pulling her down into the delves of unconsciousness.

* * *

It went quickly after that. Far too quickly. Michelle couldn’t barely keep up with her days. She’d lay over the toilet, throwing up until she thought that she couldn’t possibly be any sicker than she already was.

She stopped treatment pretty quickly after things took a turn. It was advancing too quickly, they said she should focus more on being comfortable. She said, “how the hell am I supposed to make dying comfortable?”

They didn’t have much of an answer.

Martin wasn’t there one week. She asked where he was… the silence was her answer. Michelle wanted more than anything to go to his funeral, but she spent the morning throwing up blood into her toilet instead.

Tony let Peter off work for the last few weeks. Michelle couldn’t be home alone anymore.

She spent days on her couch thinking about how much easier it would be if she could just die already – that everything would be easier if it were all over.

Then she’d see Peter. She’d see the sadness in his eyes. She would know just how much pain he was in – she knew because she’d held him time after time again as he dealt with the pain of his past. She’d seen Peter, destroyed by the grief that raged around him, and she’d loved him, certain she could fix him, and in the end, she figured maybe she would just hurt him. Maybe… but she would leave him with all of the good memories. Leave him with the knowledge that he was loved deeply and intensely by Michelle.

And that would have to be enough.

Michelle lay in her bed, too tired to even move her head. Her family had been with her earlier that day. Everyone had come by, holding her, talking to her. She didn’t do much talking these days. The pain and medicine made her weary.

Peter stepped into the room, his eyes weary and sad. She hated seeing him sad.

“Do you need anything?” He’d asked, so gentle. He was always so gentle with her.

“You.” Was all she could manage. And she could see it in his eyes. The recognition that there wasn’t long. So he climbed in bed. Climbed up and wrapped his arms around her tightly. She let him slide her head onto his chest – listened to his heart as it beat.

“Tell me a story.” She muttered, and he obliged her. He told her the most wonderful story. The story of two people, who met when they were very young. Two people who were so different – two so different people who fell in love.

They grew up together, they went through hard things. They went through great things. But most importantly, they went through it all together. Side by side. He told how they went through hard things, how they came out of it on the other side. How they would have to say goodbye, and how scared one of them was. Because he was having to say goodbye to his rock, and he was so scared to be without her. But he didn’t want her to be in pain, he would give anything for her to not be in pain.

Peter leaned his head down, and placed a kiss on Michelle’s forehead, her cheek, her lips.

“I love you, Em.” His voice was wrecked, and silent tears fells from his cheeks.

“I love you too, Pete.” She would never have been able to come up with better last words.


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can die knowing I was loved.
> 
> I hope you can live knowing that I loved you just the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE FINALE! This pic was started on a whim almost a year ago. And here we are, at the end! This fic was emotionally challenging. I dove into the lovely mind of Michelle Jones. I went through all the stages of grief writing this. I laughed, I cried, and I finished it! (Never thought I would see the end of this!) 
> 
> Thank you to every single one of you who stuck around for this fic. Thank you to all the commenters, and to all of my supporters. I love you all!

He came here every month on the 28th. It had been three years. Three years since he’d held Michelle for her last moments. Three years since he’d said goodbye to his best friend. It felt like moments and an eternity all at once. Like he’d been grasping at chaff, only for it to be blown out of his hand by one violent gust of wind.

Peter felt her hand slip into his, and he laid his head on her blonde hair.

It had taken him over a year to be able to come to terms with the first letter Michelle had left for him. She’d written elaborate words telling him that he should call the number at the bottom of the letter when he was ready. That she’d found him someone to talk to – someone that would understand what he was going through.

He’d finally called the number, on the one-year anniversary of Michelle’s death. He’d needed someone to talk to, someone to talk to about how perfect she was. About how much he missed her smiles and her stories and her laughter and her overwhelming presence.

So he’d called the number, and a familiar voice had answered. Someone who was also crying, someone who also missed MJ with a burning desperation.

“I just… need someone to talk to.” Peter had said, his voice quiet and defeated.

“I’ll meet you at the park.” Gwen had responded.

The park where the three of them used to hang out. The park where they would have picnics and listen to music, and Michelle would draw, and Gwen would read, and Peter would facetime Ned to catch up with his friend. A park where they could all just relish in the warmth of their camaraderie.

They’d met and walked around, talking about Michelle. Peter hadn’t found comfort in another person like he did with Gwen since Michelle. They would laugh and cry – somehow blending those two emotions together seamlessly, killing any awkwardness that might normally resound.

It had become easy, hanging out with Gwen. Something that seemed second hand.

The first time he felt as though he had emotions for Gwen he’d run away. He’d wept as he apologized to MJ over and over again. Overcome with the feeling that he’d betrayed her, that even in her loss he was somehow being unfaithful to her.

When he called May, she’d told him to go to his closet and open letter number three. She’d told Peter about how she’d been able to shift from Ben to Happy. How you could love someone that was gone fully and understand that there can be happiness after them.

Letter number three addressed exactly what Peter was feeling, and in classic Michelle form, she had known exactly what Peter needed to hear. Gwen wouldn’t be able to understand Peter like Michelle had, not for a while at least. You can’t replace 26 years of knowledge that quickly, but they would learn.

“I miss her so much.” Gwen’s voice was quiet as she gripped Peter’s arm. He let a tear slide down his cheek. He couldn’t say anything, instead, he pulled the fifth letter from his pocket. He didn’t know how she’d done it, but somehow, MJ had planned ahead. Known exactly what he would be feeling in each situation and had written him a perfectly written letter for each one.

_To Peter,_

_I have loved you forever. I will love you until the sun sets on the very last day of humanities existence, and longer than even that._

_Thank you. For the commitment you gave to me. For the love we shared. For blessing me with the existence of you._

_You were the greatest part of my life. I know it is hard, but I know you – and I know you will be okay. The truth is, I don’t know how I’m going to say goodbye to you. We’ve never had to say goodbye, never to the permanence of this. But, that’s okay. Because maybe it’s not a ‘goodbye’ maybe it’s a ‘I’ll see you later’._

_I love you, Peter Parker, and I will forever be grateful for the wonderful time that we had together. When I was first diagnosed, I was certain that I was having my future stolen from me, that my life was too short for this to be stealing my future, but I decided something tonight. Loving you, loving you is an eternity wrapped inside itself. It is a million lives lived to the fullest extent. Not many people can die knowing they were fully loved to the degree that I cannot begin to understand it. I can die saying I was loved by the greatest man to have walked this planet._

_I can die knowing I was loved._

_I hope you can live knowing that I loved you just the same._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on Tumblr @itsreallylaterightnow
> 
> I love you all! Comments and Kudos just make me scream!


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